This road trip has left me filled with strong and clean energies. Such an amazing sinking-in of the insight, that, truly, Home for me is not about attaching to any one particular space and clinging to it. This is the Zaiga paradigm, whereby NO space on the face of the planet can be related to in a loving fashion, since Home is defined as 1930’s Latvia. The Irony of her doing everything in her power to prevent me from taking root in the U.S., and in so doing, she replicated upon me what the Powers That She Loathed did to her. Except that I was NEVER allowed to take root. I could never be uprooted, having always been rootless.
The last 2 road trips have shown me the shiny side of the Coin of Homelessness: by not clutching at any one place that I define as Mine, I can be at ease in ANY place. I don’t have to defend MY Space, not having one, so I don’t have to compare other spaces in terms of what they lack as compared to My Space. I can perceive and enjoy the particular beauty of any space.
Zaiga taught me to compare any and all spaces to her Nostalgic Latvia. I was comparing all the geographies of my life to a place I could never know, that could never again exist, if it ever really did.
Zaiga cultivated an attitude of Rigidity. For her, the entire world became a continuous assault upon “her” Latvia. She hunkered down into the airtight bunker of her mind and proceeded to molder away. She became Brittle and Implacable. Her budget of flexibility shrank to almost nothing. Such a sad story.
A story she did everything in her power to make mine, too. I was nothing more for her than a blank screen upon which to project her faded dream. I had no existence for her as a human being with a life of his own.